I wish my skull was a semipermeable membrane.

Because then, instead of spending my precious waking hours reading and studying and whatnot, I could just put lots of books under my pillow before I went to bed at night. And then, as I slept peacefully, knowledge would just seep into my brain, because there's a lower concentration of knowledge in there than in the books. Yep, that would be pretty sweet. Like Sugar Daddy's. Which are delicious, by the way.

Back by popular demand: Logo observations

This has been bothering me for a few years now.

On the left is the team logo of the Minnesota Timberwolves. It debuted during the 1996-1997 NBA season.

Historical note for basketball nerds: That was the season the Wolves made the playoffs for the first time ever. Led by the promising young trio of point guard Stephon Marbury and forwards Kevin Garnett and Tom Gugliotta (Googs!), no less.

On the right is the team logo of the Memphis Grizzlies. It debuted during the 2004-2005 NBA season.

Historical note for basketball nerds: That was the season the Great Hubie Brown stepped down from coaching for the last time just a handful of games in, ending his 33-year career in the L. Mike "The Czar" Fratello took over.

I still remember reading the report about the Grizz's new logo on their website when it was first unveiled. The descriptions of its symbolism were hilariously over-the-top and long-winded (let's hear it for hyphenation!):

The new Grizzlies logo represents strength, power and courage. Character, tenacity and fearlessness. The Grizzly symbolizes Memphis basketball at its grittiest, at its toughest, at its best. It symbolizes Grizzlies players and the fierce passion they bring to the court every night. It symbolizes incredible leadership and their commitment to winning and class. It symbolizes the maturity of an organization that will settle for nothing less than the ultimate – success.

This kind of talk was even more laughable in light of the fact that the logo was such a blatant rip-off.

The striking similarities between the Minnesota Timberwolf and the Memphis Grizzly have never been discussed, as far as I know, and that's legitimately baffling to me. There's the darkened right side of the face; the lighter left side; the fierce, yellow eyes; and the menacing expression.

Just look at the pictures. It's not exactly subtle.

Crazy stuff, people. Crazy. Stuff.

The black hole that is "general biology"

For the past two semesters, I've spent five hours each week in my "General Biology" class. That's three hours in lecture and two hours in the lab every seven days. Today, we had a test in lecture on connective tissue and the Hardy-Weinburg equilibrium and lots of other stuff I never really needed to know, and in lab, we dissected a fetal pig. There's just a few weeks left before all of this is finally over, and my science core requirement for the Iona College Honors program is mercifully complete. With the light at the end of the tunnel right within reach, it seems like an odd time to dwell upon the profound waste of time, energy, and resources that my education in Bio has been. But just for a minute, in the privacy of my very own awesome blog, allow me to dwell. (Dwellingdwellingdwellingdwellingdwellingdwellingdwellingggggggggggggg). There we go. Now I feel better. Thumbs down for unnecessary required courses.

Vital information for your everyday life

I feel the need to refresh people's memory, if they need it: the title of this post is an allusion to a classic skit of the same name that used to run on the Nickelodeon sketch show, All That. "Vital information" was one of the best things ever seen on Snick, right up there with the "Log!" bit on Ren and Stimpy and whenever Clarissa somehow managed to design her own, sleek video games to illustrate her life's problems. Yes, Lori Beth Denberg dispensing her words of wisdom was consistently among the highlights of any given Saturday night spent on the big orange couch back in the day.

Browsing the new Iona Athletics website earlier today, I randomly remembered my first reaction to seeing the school's mascot back when I was just starting to look into coming to college on North Ave. I told everyone I talked to that the Iona Gael looked strikingly similar to the leprechaun mascot of the Boston Celtics - but jacked up on steroids and wearing maroon and gold.

Examining the two now, I stand by that original assessment. Although, in order to fully transform into "Killian," "Lucky" would have to do more than just get hooked up with Barry Bonds's people and change his wardrobe. He'd have to spend some time growing out that beard and getting some type of a tan going. And he'd also have to change his demeanor pretty significantly. The Gael's all about intensity, standing there with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips. Lucky, on the other hand, personifies calm confidence, giving a sly wink while leisurely leaning on his cane. Lucky actually uses his cane for its intended purpose, by the way; Killian just seems to have it on hand in case he wants to whack someone over the head sometime in a wild fit of 'roid rage.

On a related note, whenever I look at Lucky, I think about an interesting point in the history of his cigar. For lots and lots of years, the Celtics logo was drawn only in black, white, and green. The other coloring in the vest, cane, basketball, and flesh came in the late 90's. The cigar, however, was left uncolored. I always wonder if maybe this was a conscious decision made in order to avoid attracting the eye's attention to the leprechaun's destructive vice. If the Washington Bullets were re-named the Washington Wizards in order to dissociate with gun violence around that same time, it doesn't seem far-fetched that this design choice was made to diminish the prominence of Lucky's nicotine addiction.

The man behind the massacre

After the Oklahoma City Bombing, there was Timothy McVeigh, and after September 11th, there was Osama Bin Laden.

Now, in the wake of Monday's tragedy at Virginia Tech University, there's yet another name that will forever be remembered in connection with an act of unspeakable destruction.

A day after the bloodshed in Blacksburg, the killer's identity was released.

And there he is: Cho Seung-Huim. That's the guy who carried out the deadliest shooting spree in the history of the United States of America. There's his face, and there are his two eyes staring out at us. He was just 23-years-old. A college senior. An English major. And for whatever reason, Cho made the decision earlier this week to leave this earth in a chaotic hailstorm of gunfire.

In my Humanities class right now, we're in the process of reading Hannah Arendt's Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. It's about the trial of Adolf Eichmann, an instrumental figure in the Nazi "Final Solution" during WWII, and it's an appropriate text to be delving into at this time. Our nation is desperately trying to come to grips with the sort of evil acts Arendt confronts - the sort of evil this young man pictured committed.

But was the young man himself evil? How could a human being commit such atrocities against fellow human beings? How do we confront and deal with something like this? Sometimes it seems like FaceBook is a window into the hearts and minds of our generation, so here are a few FaceBook groups that have recently been created on the subject...

"Cho Seung-Hui is pure evil"
"Cho Seung-Hui is a Fucking Dead Bitch Pussy!"
"Cho Seung-Hui if I see you in hell I'm beat your ass you crazy fuck."
"Christians should bless and not curse their enemies: Cho Seung-Hui"
"Rehumanizing Cho Seung-Hui"
"Cho Seung-hui: We Voice Our Selves Through Peace"
"Cho Seung Hui, if you had a myspace, Tom wouldnt be your friend."
"Cho Seung-Hui never got laid!"
"CHO SEUNG-HUI IS A MEAN DUMMYFACE"

...As you can see, people have responded with everything from hatred to vulgarity to forgiveness to humor. But I think the group that most accurately summed up my feelings was, simply, the following:

"Cho Seung-Hui What the hell where you thinking".

It's getting hot in herre!

The following is the original draft of my column for this Thursday's edition of the Ionian. Unfortunately, it runs much, much longer than usual, and I'm going to have to cut it down before it goes to print. Damn the traditional media and its space constrictions! So here's the whole thing, uncut and unedited...

I’d like to think that I’m a pretty intelligent guy. Still, I know my strengths and my weaknesses, and I’m not particularly adept in the world of the sciences—regardless of how many hours I spent watching Mr. Wizard and Bill Nye back in the day.

In fact, over the past semester-and-a-half, I regret to report that an introductory course entitled ‘General Biology’ has proven to be more than enough to stretch my scientific abilities to the max. It’s taken me a surprising amount of blood, sweat and tears to wrap my mind around the nuts and bolts of such basic concepts as diffusion (molecules like to have their space!) and photosynthesis (plants can cook their own food!).

Accordingly, when disagreements occur on topics in science that are far more complex than those I’ve just listed, I tend to feel a little helpless in determining what to believe on my own.

For the most part, then, I simply side with authority in these instances. If the established scientific community supports the theory of evolution, then it doesn’t seem unreasonable for me to trust them. I may not grasp all the intricacies of carbon-14 dating or DNA analysis, but I’m willing to accept the evolutionary tree mapped out by scientists using those tools.

It’s important to note that my willingness to embrace evolution is undoubtedly helped by the fact that, despite my Christianity, I was never raised to read the Bible literally. Even back at my Catholic elementary school, I was taught that the story of Adam and Eve was symbolic in nature. So, unlike fundamentalist creationists, I don’t have any real reasons to hesitate in trusting scientific authority about evolution.

But what happens when a scientific debate arises that I do have preexisting interests in? Then, it seems logical to believe that I’d be much more attracted to defying authority, if authorities went against my interests.

Such is the case with the theory that greenhouse gases are causing significant global warming, which the vast majority of scientists spanning the globe support.

The thing is, I like to drive. I don’t get to drive when I’m here at Iona during the school year, and driving is something I look forward to every time I go home to Watertown, Mass. And when I’m driving back to my house from a friend’s place or the bank or the grocery store or wherever it may be, sometimes I like to take a spin around the block once or twice before pulling into my driveway. And I really don’t like to think that the exhaust spewing out from the back of my mom’s Ford Taurus could be contributing to the trend that might send more and more Hurricane Katrina’s our way in the future.

The thing is, there’s only a very small range of temperatures I find comfortable. I like my house and my dorm room to be warm and cozy in the bitter cold of the winter, and I absolutely love to crank up the A.C. on the hottest days of the summer and enjoy a nice, artificial chill. But I don’t like to think that my excessive energy consumption could help lead to the continued melting of the polar ice caps and the permanent flooding of low-lying coastal regions around the world, including Manhattan. I like Manhattan, and, as I learned last weekend for the first time, first-hand, I’m not a big fan floods. I mean, flooding can be fun in a silly kind of way if the water recedes quickly and the damage isn’t too, too horrific, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that I’m not predisposed to being environmentally conscience, and I’m not thrilled about the idea that, barring a break from this predisposition, my everyday actions could be directly connected with a rapidly approaching apocalypse. So when I saw a headline last week that a very prominent hurricane forecaster had described former Vice President Al Gore as a “gross alarmist” for his work in advancing knowledge of the global warming theory, it caught my attention.

The forecaster’s name is William Gray, and a few quick internet searches told me how he’s been railing against the popular idea of global warming for years. An emeritus professor in the atmospheric science department at Colorado State University, Gray may be in the minority in thinking that observed warming results from simple ocean circulation patterns and that global temperatures will actually begin to drop over the next five to ten years, but his depiction of things seems perfectly plausible to me. Learning about Gray gave me the same warm, fuzzy feeling I imagine creationists experience when they hear of the rare scientist who questions the merits of evolution.

But as real as that warm, fuzzy feeling was, and as appealing as it may be to me to believe what Gray says, it seems to me, logically, that I can’t stray from authority on this issue. Too many scientists say the opposite of what Gray says, and the risks at stake in ignoring the mainstream opinion are much too high. I worry about the publicity Gray’s viewpoint has recently received because I’m sure that at least some people have neglected to view the situation the way I have, and, at the potential peril of the world, their reservations about burning too much gas in their cars or racking up too high of a heating bill have been eased.

I, along with many of my fellow Iona students who don’t frequent Cornelia Hall, may not have the scientific prowess to determine whether or not Al Gore is a “gross alarmist.” But, if we defer to authority here and assume he is not, it is imperative that we hear the message of which he is a spokesperson. I C Green, a relatively new club on campus dedicated to the environment and sustainability, is hosting a viewing of Gore’s award-winning documentary, “An Inconvenient Truth,” in Ryan Auditorium on April 24 at 7:30 p.m. I hope to see you all there.

Tragedy

This morning while I was walking to class, I saw Director of Residential Life Derek Zuckerman and Vice Provost for Student Development Charlie Carlson walking briskly past me back in the direction of the dorms that I had just left. They both wore solemn-looking expressions, and I worried that something might be wrong.

Later, I would find out just how wrong things really were.

I don't know any of the details yet, but I do know that an Iona College freshman passed away today. Circumstances notwithstanding, it's always extremely sobering - and even those words don't seem strong enough - when someone so young is suddenly taken away from us.

IIIIIIIIII don't know.

True Life...

...I'm 20 years old, and I still decorate Easter eggs.

It's easily one of my favorite holiday traditions, too, and I don't think I'll ever give it up.

(Note: Below are three snapshots from this year's experience, complete with accompanying stories. Feel free to pretend that each one constitutes an actual segment of an actual episode of the MTV show. For realism, you could even go to YouTube and watch commercials in between! You know you want to.)

EACH YEAR, A FAVORITE EGG EMERGES FROM THE PACK: This year, my favorite egg (pictured at right) was part of a category I call "concept eggs." These are eggs that don't follow the design instructions of any kit; rather, they are conceived spontaneously during the creative process of egg-decoration. This particular "concept egg" was born out of adversity. Due to the careless consumption of hard-boiled white eggs meant for decorating during lunch, my sister was given six eggs to decorate this year, while I was given only five. But I refused to be slighted like that, so I took a regular, uncooked brown egg from the refrigerator, dyed it red, and drew on it a "CAUTION: RAW" label, a concerned face, and the outline of a growing crack in the shell. Just like that, lemons to lemonade.

THE PROBLEM OF THE PURPLE DYE: Each year, my sister and I both have to face up to the unavoidable and infuriating problem of the purple dye. For some reason, the purple dye provided in every egg-decorating kit we've ever encountered yields a splotchy and uneven finish. To solve the problem, we often briefly dip our purple eggs into blue dye once they've spent a healthy amount of time soaking in the purple. While this fix does seem to sufficiently clear up most inconsistencies in the dye-job, it is not without pitfalls; "Fig. 1" offers ample evidence to that end. If one simply lets the dipped purple egg sit undisturbed and perfectly still during the process of drying, any and all excess blue dye will collect at the base of the egg. Consequently, an unsightly, blue, circular region will form, as is seen. Fortunately, I rebounded from such near-disaster this Easter and seamlessly integrated the blemish into a repeating painted pattern of blue circles. The stunning finished product is seen in "Fig. 2." Again and again, the egg-decorating process demands resiliency from the artist - but I'm a veteran in this game, and I was clearly up to the challenge.

MIXING IT UP: This year, once all my eggs were decorated and completed, I sat looking at the glasses and mugs filled with dye still sitting on my kitchen table. I felt a little sad that the yearly ritual was over and that the dyes would soon be dumped down the sink. Just then, I had a flashback to summers of my youth spent at Camp Cabot at the YMCA in Waltham, Mass. I could use the dyes to tie-dye... something! But what? Well, as can be seen above, I decided on an old pair of socks. My sister dyed one sock, and I dyed the other (hers is the bottom one with the purple). Good times all-around. This might have to become a regular capping-off activity to decorating eggs from now on.

Tanking like Michael Dukakis

My Boston Celtics are facing a rare must-lose situation, and it certainly seems they realize it.

Only two games separate us and the abysmal Milwaukee Bucks for the second-worst record in the NBA, and draft-positioning for sure-fire franchise players Greg Oden and Kevin Durant will be at stake tonight when the two cellar-dwellers do battle at the Bradley Center.

That's why I got so excited earlier today when I came across a news bulletin on Celtics.com which informed me that star forward "Big" Al Jefferson probably wouldn't be available to play tonight due to a "bumped knee." Several hours later, another story was added, explaining that the C's had inked to a 10-day contract a guy named Kevinn (yes, there are two n's - that's not a typo!) Pinkney, straight from the Bakersfield Jam of the Developmental League.

Simply brilliant.

Maybe I should be ashamed that my team appears to be tanking so blatantly, but I'm actually pretty okay with it. Let's do this thing. Goooooooo (other) team!

No time to say "Hello" - Goodbye! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!!

It's been one full week since I last blogged. I never thought when I started this thing that I'd let that long of a gap come in between posts, but this past week has been completely and utterly insane.

Okay, so maybe it hasn't been "completely and utterly insane," but I've definitely had enough on my plate lately that things have been pretty uncomfortable and hectic.

This weekend we had the Ionian deadline (that's the school newspaper - I'm the News Editor). That was extremely time-consuming, as always. My roommates and I are still in the midst of our seemingly neverending quest to find housing for next year. That's been weighing pretty heavily on my mind - even when I'm not actually in the active pursuit of finding a place. And the workload for my classes has of course been plenty heavy, as well.

Throw in course registration for next semester and the increasingly urgent need to figure out what I'm going to be doing this summer (Working in produce at Shaw's again? Taking summer courses here at Iona? At home? Somehow finding an internship?), and I've felt a little like the White Rabbit in his first scene of Alice in Wonderland (see: post title and picture). Fun connection, right? I do my best.

So, faithful reader, you might now be asking: why did I need to know all of this? Well, I'm not sure that you do. But I somehow felt the need to explain myself and my recent lack of blog activity. It's not like I stopped posting because the networking thing ran out of steam; rest assured, I'm not a one-trick pony.

Hopefully things will calm down ASAP, and I can put my focus back where it belongs: on keeping this blog "awesome."